“My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. Won’t you come and have some tea with me? There is a new place in Bond Street,” he hastened to say, “where everything is very well done, and they give us music, if that is any attraction to you. "My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer. "He just asked for his coat, which he wanted under his pillow. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Annabel is my only sister, you know, almost my only relative. My garden-close would be a better thing than that.
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